Bank Shot
by SpazticTwitch
Summary: Aomine knows Kagami knows exactly what Aomine wanted to do to him, still wants to do to him, but Aomine already nailed Kagami in the head trying to throw the ball into his court, so it's up to Kagami to make the shot. Or hit Aomine back.


Something short and sweet for someone short and sweet. Happy (late) birthday, HadenXCharm.

Can also be found on ao3 here: /works/18740839

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Aomine thinks it was adrenaline that spurred him on. Excess adrenaline and a high born from beating those American pricks. Whatever it was, it'd done nothing for his finesse. Any coordination and skill he possessed suddenly shot to hell and nowhere to be found.

And unfortunately for him, immortalized on live—and probably national—television.

In the aftermath, surrounded by excited screams and celebratory body bumps, Aomine felt surprisingly calm. Satisfied in a way he hadn't been after winning in a long, long time. It'd been a hot minute since winning anything more than a one-on-one with Kagami had made him smile. Genuine and true and bursting with the pride of a game well played and crushing a team's spirit that actually deserved it.

At some point Aomine was jostled out of bounds, because when he looks up and hears Kagami yelling, he's still standing beneath the net surrounded by the rest of their team. This time Aomine doesn't mind being on the outside looking in. Admiring the way Kagami throws his head back—flicking sweat he'd guess by Tetsu's polite grimace—and hollers like an animal with their less reserved friends. And isn't that something, sharing friends with Kagami. _Sharing a team _with Kagami.

Something in him decides that now was as good a time as any. While his confidence was air walking on cloud nine and over inflated with teenage invincibility.

Shamelessly using Kise as fodder to redirect a group of pretty girls blocking his way, Aomine skirts around the thinner parts of the crowd clogging up the court and plants a hand on Tetsu's skull to steer him out of his way, completely missing his less than polite look that Aomine would have killed to see any other time. Aomine claps Kagami on the shoulder to get his attention and is disgustingly grateful that Kagami perspires like he's trying to water a desert, because his own palm is slick with nerves. Kagami turns towards Aomine with his eyes cast down, expecting to see Tetsu, and he looks a little perplexed until he registers the red five plastered against the white backdrop of Aomine's jersey.

Aomine doesn't even need the full force of that toothy, boyish grin to hit him for his heart to fall out through his ass, sickening swoopy motion and all. He really should have waited for Kagami to look at him head on though, before reeling him in without warning.

It isn't until their teeth clack together harshly and Kagami hisses a pained _fuck _against the fingers he's pressed to his split lip that Aomine realizes he really, _really _fucked that kiss up. Caught the upswing of Kagami's head because he was overeager and dove in too hot and too fast. Kagami's pinched expression is all kinds of offended and Aomine wishes the embarrassment burning through him would make him spontaneously combust and leave him nothing more than a shameful pile of ashes smoldering on the asphalt. _Anything _that puts distance between his complete cock up and Kagami.

Not bothering to check if anyone else noticed—not wanting to _know _how many people were witnesses to what probably looked like an act of aggression instead of a stupid boy taking a stupid chance and botching it stupidly like a stupid idiot—Aomine skulks away just as quick as he came, shoulders hunched around his red tipped ears and trying to make all one-hundred and something centimeters of himself blend in with a crowd of averaged height citizens so he can disappear.

And he does. Disappear that is. Until Satsuki finds him five minutes into his casual speed walk home and tells him he's going the wrong way. That Aida-sama had dinner catered in back at the gym to thank them. That it'd be rude to skimp out and _you can shower in the locker rooms with everyone else, Dai-chan, let's _go. Because that's just what Aomine needs, Kagami dripping water and prodding at his tender bottom lip in nothing but a towel while Aomine tries to drown himself with piss poor water pressure two stalls over.

Which is how Aomine ends up where he is now: bangs dripping over an untouched plate of snacks Satsuki abandoned him with and brooding alone on the bleachers, watching everyone drop crumbs on each other as they practically dog pile Takao to watch his recording of Vorpal Swords curb stomping Jabberwock. No one's said anything yet about Aomine's bout of accidentally aggressive affection, Kagami's silence the biggest surprise of all, so he's pretty sure he's in the clear. Tells himself to quit siking himself out and chill, everything is _fine_. Kagami doesn't even seem all that put out anymore and just absently tongues his scab occasionally. At least Aomine's convinced himself Kagami's forgiven him, because the unsubtle glances he keeps catching from across the room look more constipated than hostile. Forgiven? Probably. Forgotten? Probably not so much, but he can take a couple weeks of humiliation at his expense if it means he can keep a semblance of _something _good with Kagami.

He also can't help but pick apart all the good he just cost himself, whether Kagami caught on to what Aomine was trying to pull off back there or not. Which is a shame, because Aomine was positive he was a match and a sure bet away from winning himself an invitation to Kagami's apartment for a homemade meal, just the two of them. Now Aomine figures he'll be lucky to win a moment of Kagami's time outside of basketball at all without needing Tetsu there to curb the awkwardness. Aomine pushed his luck too far when he should've just settled for the victory, instead of being brazen enough to believe he deserved the spoils, too.

"I thought you were going in for a hug." Aomine jerks and just about swallows his own tongue to keep himself from screaming. He's wild eyed when he looks at Kagami sitting beside him—eating Aomine's snacks _when the fuck_—like he didn't just pull a fucking Tetsu and scare a patch of Aomine's hair gray.

"What the fuck?"

"On the court? When you busted my lip." What Aomine really meant was _what the fuck are you doing with my food_, but whatever. Different priorities apparently.

"Wasn't going to hug you." There. Honest enough to be truthful, but vague enough to let Kagami interpret whatever the hell wants.

"Weren't going to headbutt me either."

It's years of instinctual snark that let's Aomine snort the nerves out of his voice and keep up his bullshit facade of indifference. "Yeah? What was I going to do then?" Aomine knows _Kagami _knows exactly what Aomine wanted to do to him, still wants to do to him, but Aomine already nailed Kagami in the head trying to throw the ball into his court, so it's up to Kagami to make the shot. Or hit Aomine back.

Which is exactly what Aomine expects when Kagami's nostrils flare with a frustrated puff. Kagami hikes a leg up on the bleachers so he can face Aomine properly, for better swinging leverage Aomine guesses, and checks to see if they're being watched by anyone else. He's about to suggest they go outside so Kagami can cash in on his free punch without making a scene, but his voice dies in his throat and his tongue dries to the roof of his mouth when Kagami—_gently_—puts both hands on either side of his face and just _fucking stares at him _while ruining the good part of his lip between his teeth. The longer Kagami stares at him like that, the more Aomine's nerves fray and—

Kagami's kiss is a lot less violent than Aomine's was. It's easier on the lips, too. Kagami takes an obnoxiously long time to move his face in, probably hesitant to get his nose busted on top of everything else. It's also padded with cupcake crumbs instead of salty sweat and teeth. Still, Aomine's wide eyed and tense throughout the entire ordeal. The only air he takes in for a full twenty seconds is whatever breath Kagami expels out his nose. Which is pressed _right up against Aomine's. Nostril to Nostril, holy _shit.

Kagami seems uncertain when he pulls away and licks his lips, but whatever face Aomine is making is enough to make Kagami smug, wicked blush and all. Definitely gives Kagami the balls to tell him, "_That's _how you're supposed to kiss someone, idiot." His hands are still cupping Aomine's face, big and warm and just a tad bit sweaty.

It takes a long second for Aomine to come back to himself, but when he does he grabs Kagami by the forearm to reel him back in and show Kagami how he'd meant for that court side kiss to go down. But first, because his already bruised pride apparently can't take a good thing and run with it, he asks, "Yeah? Who the hell made you the expert?"

Kagami's soft smile becomes more of a grimace. "Alex."

_Who the fuck is Alex? _Why does Aomine know that name?

"Who the fuck—"

"Wait wait wait! Go back!" Wakamatsu's voice booming off the gym walls startles them apart, Kagami accidentally kneeing Aomine in the tailbone when he shoves himself out of Aomine's personal space. "Stop! Right there!"

Aomine already knows what's coming next as soon as he hears Kise's dramatic inhale. "Aominecchi headbutted Kagamicchi? _Why?_"

"Dai-chan!" And with Satsuki's mom voice out full force, Aomine knows it's all over. He'll be forced to explain what actually happened and then be teased at every practice until the entirety of Tōō either graduates or dies.

Kagami's nose ends up bleeding all over Aomine's face when their skulls crack together, but he manages to wrestle the plastic fork away from Aomine before he guts himself with it.


End file.
